


Promises

by zeroism



Series: the violet voice [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 01:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20350087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeroism/pseuds/zeroism
Summary: It comes to him slowly, the memory of how he got here at all. Of Haurchefant, both resolute and a little uncertain, inviting him once more to spend the night in his quarters. He'd been worried he'd misread E'zarh's reactions, that his advances were unwanted after all, until E'zarh took his hand in his.





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Some early 3.0 fluffy goodness to fully display how much of a disaster Zarh is.  
also catch me implying raha/zarh at every opportunity--

E'zarh wakes to the soft sound of a heartbeat, drumming slowly under his ear. He's slow to come to, at first, too pleased by the softness of the bed and the warmth of the sheets, the comfort of another body laying next to his.

It takes him several minutes to realize he's sleeping with someone. Another minute for his brain to catch up to the fact he is cuddled up to Haurchefant's chest; almost as if on reflex, he snuggles a little closer, taking in all of his companion's presence.

It comes to him slowly, the memory of how he got here at all. Of Haurchefant, both resolute and a little uncertain, inviting him once more to spend the night in his quarters. He'd been worried he'd misread E'zarh's reactions, that his advances were unwanted after all, until E'zarh took his hand in his.

Haurchefant is a good kisser, in a way that speaks of much experience. E'zarh was surprised when he felt an unfamiliar flash of possessiveness at the realization; it wasn't like Haurchefant had been his first, so logically, he couldn't expect that from him, either. But then, perhaps it should be flattering, that even so, Haurchefant had still chosen to spend such precious time with him.

They'd spent a long time like that. Kiss after kiss, exploring each other's bodies, whispering sweet nothings, grandiose compliments E'zarh still felt unworthy of.

_ (What great hero he was, scurrying away to Ishgard with his tail between his legs, powerless to even know if his companions still lived, so tired of watching them turn their backs to him and walk away, doors closing between them—) _

Everything was new and overwhelming, the depth of Haurchefant's feelings still too much and too sudden for him to process. His hands so warm and unwavering, lips sweet and soft against his, his tongue— 

Embarrassment drags him out of his reminiscing, just as it'd stopped him last night. Haurchefant, for all his eagerness, was truly understanding of his choice to not go any further that night, even if Haurchefant's body certainly wanted to go far beyond what they'd started. The memory makes E'zarh warm all over, in body and soul.

Even in his eccentricity and overeagerness, Haurchefant is truly so kind. That E'zarh had to travel unto such cold a land to find that warmth is nothing short of ironic, if not destiny.

His sleeping face looks so peaceful.

If he could give Haurchefant even half of what he's given him...

Determined, E'zarh slips away from bed, deeply regretting the loss of warmth. As good as his accommodations were, this was still Coerthas. He blindly puts on a couple of layers before quietly leaving the room.

He so hoped he hadn't awoken Haurchefant. That would ruin his newly-formed plans... If they weren't ruined by him not knowing where the kitchens were, first.

He wanders the halls, slightly turned around, for several minutes before he finds his mark. As early as it is, there are already people flitting about, getting ready to prepare the morning's breakfast.

He's almost immediately discouraged; he argues with himself that shouldn't bother these people while they're so hard at work, much less with his meager cooking skills. But before he's able to give up and leave unnoticed, one of the day's cooks lays his eyes on him.

"Good sir! Why have you come here this early in the morn?" The man says, approaching him in slight alarm. "You are our  _ guest _ ! We shall prepare your meal for you, you mustn't preoccupy yourself with these things...!"

"Ah, nay, it's no problem!" He responds almost automatically. "Pray be at ease, friend. I... simply wanted to prepare some hot cocoa to warm myself up. Would you allow me to use your ingredients?"

"Why, of course! But are you certain you do not want us to...?"

Truly, he was still not used to this treatment, E'zarh mused as he found two mugs and set them aside. Ward of House Fortemps or not, guest of Lord Haurchefant or not, he was far more comfortable getting things done with his own hands. "I would like to do this on my own, if that is acceptable?"

The cook glanced toward the mugs, then to E'zarh's face, then... to his clothes? A look of understanding lights upon his face as he smiles. "I understand, sir. Do let us know if you need any assistance."

As the man returns to his duties, E'zarh wonders what exactly the man had seen. He chances a glance at his own figure once he's gathered everything he needs.

He was most certainly wearing Lord Haurchefant's tunic. How he hadn't realized until now, he doesn't know; it was very large on him, his haphazardly thrown-on pants the only thing keeping it from fitting him like a dress. Had the guards along the way noticed, as well? And, for how tender his skin felt, he didn't doubt he might have dark kiss marks along his neck too—

At least he doesn't need the hot cocoa to warm him up anymore, as his face is positively burning in shame. What a picture he must paint right now. By the Twelve, the rumors this would spawn, as if Haurchefant needed more whispering behind his back...

Still he finishes what he started, shamefully nodding a thanks to the cooks as he leaves with two steaming mugs on a tray, as well as some bread and butter another cook had insisted he take so he and Lord Haurchefant could share.

He would have to apologize a hundred times for this blunder. The way people talk, Lord Fortemps and his sons would know before noon— no, the gossip wouldn't reach them that quickly, would it? E'zarh could feel his tail whip around, as if he were in high alert for a particularly tough hunt.

Almost too soon he reaches the corridor that would lead him to Haurchefant's quarters, when suddenly a different worry hits him— that this had been a bad idea. He'd wanted to give Haurchefant something nice as he woke up, as a thanks for his kindness and consideration, but was it perhaps too forward? Maybe too much for their first night together, especially after cutting it short himself? Did Haurchefant mean to go on their separate ways in the morning, not placing any special meaning on the events of last night?

That— that doesn't sound right, but he hadn't significant experience with... courting. In the experiences he previously had, most male Seekers truly sought only pleasure from each other; he'd only seen deviation from that from those who, like he, had left their tribes. Perhaps it would be the same with Elezen, or with knights. Maybe Haurchefant only desired one night's comfort instead of a deeper affection— 

He nearly jumps when the door he'd spent the past couple of minutes in front of opens, tray rattling in his hands. Haurchefant blinks at him, a strangely dejected look on his face before it melts into a small smile.

"My friend, I thought you..." Haurchefant almost whispers, smile widening s little before he lowers his gaze. "No, no matter. Did you go all the way to the kitchen for those?"

"I— Yes," E'zarh says as he lets out an undignified noise. "I meant to share it as you awoke... I apologize for waking you so early."

Haurchefant chuckles. "It's quite alright. My days at Dragonhead have gotten me used to waking even earlier than this," He steps out of the door frame for a moment, gesturing inside. "Let's get you out of the cold, shall we?"

Glad and honestly a little giddy for being invited into his quarters again, E'zarh steps inside while muttering a tiny "excuse me", as his companion closes the door behind him.

Swiftly, Haurchefant stands behind him, leaning over to snake his arm around E'zarh's chest, his other hand grabbing one of the mugs. E'zarh gasps, both in surprise and something akin to happiness, and Haurchefant tightens his arm around him with a chuckle.

"You look rather dashing in my tunic," he says quietly next to E'zarh's ear; he can't see him from this angle, but Haurchefant's voice betrays the smile on his lips.

"Pray forgive me, I appear to have mixed up our clothes as I got dressed," he stammers out, grabbing his own mug, and he can feel Haurchefant smile against the back of his head.

"That was a compliment, my friend," he says as he slips his hand away, E'zarh briefly huffing at the loss of contact before that same hand rests on his arm. "Here, have a seat."

E'zarh lets himself be led to the bed again, heart skipping a beat at the reminder of last night's activities. Haurchefant adjusts the pillows so they can sit comfortably against the headboard, sitting himself as he pats the space next to him with a smile that is equal parts bright and impish.

Uh-oh.

E'zarh swallows, setting the tray with bread aside and taking a seat just as Haurchefant indicated. That look on his face told him they wouldn't be getting out of bed for a while.

His hot cocoa is sweet and warm as he sips, a little contented sigh escaping his lips. Haurchefant slips an arm around his waist, pulling them in closer, leaning some of his weight on E'zarh's shoulder.

Snuggled in bed like this, lazily drinking something hot and comforting... E'zarh had hardly ever felt so contented. Were it not for the mug in his hands, he surely would've nodded off into Haurchefant's warmth.

"I had thought..." Haurchefant speaks up after a long silence, continuing the thought from earlier. "I feared you'd left in the morning without telling me. I'm happy to see that wasn't the case."

"I apologize, Lord Haurchefant," E'zarh says, leaning his head on Haurchefant's chest. "I did not mean to worry you so..."

"My friend, there is no need for such formality. We  _ are _ sharing a bed," Haurchefant interjects, a playful lilt to his voice that makes E'zarh's heart skip a beat.

"O... Of course. Haurchefant," he mutters, almost as if testing the name out. His extremities feel oddly numb, heart pounding in his chest.

His reward comes immediately, a soft kiss to the top of his head, just behind his ear. It whips at Haurchefant in response, and the man laughs softly— whether at the sensation or at the reaction, E'zarh can't tell.

"In that case," E'zarh says, proud of how even his voice sounds, "I would make a selfish request of you."

"Anything," comes the immediate, resolute response.

Ah, he could hardly take it.

"Hardly ever do I hear my own name," he confides. "I am always... The Hero, the Slayer, the Warrior of Light. Even beyond a tia of the E, I would rather just be..."

This shouldn't be so difficult, he muses. Never had he asked someone to change their manner of addressing him— they'd simply change themselves according to how they saw him, and that was fine. But, with Haurchefant... he  _ wants _ . He hopes for something. What is it that he seeks from the Elezen?

"Zarh," Haurchefant's soft voice takes him out of his own mind. "May I call you that?"

So few others had ever called him that. It makes his chest feel tight, like his heart is too big for his body; like it swells, blood rushing straight to his face. It almost feels...

"...Aye," he all but whispers, burying his face into Haurchefant's side.

It feels like happiness, he decides.

Too quickly would they have to leave, he knows that. They each had their respective duties to attend, a knight and a hero, both sorely needed by Ishgard. He didn't know when they would next meet, much less that it would be such a peaceful encounter such as this.

That's why, for this moment, he intends to enjoy Haurchefant's company as much as he can.

Perhaps, once this was all over. Once Ishgard was at peace, Haurchefant and he...

That was a nice thought, if unrealistic. Yet he knew himself to be an idealist at heart.

That thought, that hope would taint all the kisses they'd trade that morning, sweet and full of longing, a slow simmer rather than fervor.

Every kiss from Haurchefant tasted like a promise.


End file.
